


Impatience

by HigherMagic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bruises, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dom Alana Bloom, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Flogging, Hair-pulling, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder Wives, Painplay, Past Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scratching, Sexual Fantasy, Sharing, Sub Margot Verger, Sub Will Graham, Swingers, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism, primal play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 10:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: It's been a long time since Hannibal took Will to the Dungeon. They haven't had time or the desire to properly indulge outside of their house, which Hannibal has never minded since he has more than enough space and tools to care for Will properly there. But the proud, peacocking part of his personality delights in taking Will somewhere semi-public occasionally. He likes seeing other people admire his lovely boy, knowing that they cannot have him. He likes to learn the faces and names of the ones who try anyway, for meal plans later.





	Impatience

**Author's Note:**

> self-indulgent PWP where Will is an absolute champ and Hannibal likes to watch  
> the clubs are based off of real-life places and the scenes are based off scenes I've done but any resemblance to actual locations is not intended (:

It's been a long time since Hannibal took Will to the Dungeon. They haven't had time or the desire to properly indulge outside of their house, which Hannibal has never minded since he has more than enough space and tools to care for Will properly there. But the proud, peacocking part of his personality delights in taking Will somewhere semi-public occasionally. He likes seeing other people admire his lovely boy, knowing that they cannot have him.

He likes to learn the faces and names of the ones who try anyway, for meal plans later.

He parks the car on the side of the street, noting the empty police vehicle parked opposite, and gets out of the car. Will follows suit, his hands in his pockets and his head low until Hannibal circles the car and takes him by the back of his neck.

Will relaxes into his hold immediately, sighing, and gives Hannibal a small smile. "Are you ready, darling?" he asks, and Will nods, licking his lips in anticipation. Hannibal smiles and lets him go, leading the way up the street. The Dungeon looks on the outside like an abandoned warehouse, or a low-brow nightclub, complete with a ring of smokers that are only barely street-legal around the door.

They enter the place and Will immediately gravitates to the poster board of upcoming events. They never attend, but Will delights in seeing the lineup of specific perversions hosted for the entertainment of the Dungeon's members. Hannibal gives the cashier their names and cards and signs in for them both, paying the entry fee. Then he passes through the blackout curtain that separates the changing room and the entry hall, Will following behind.

Inside there are a few occupants, setting their bags and personal effects down on the shelves. There's a changing bench in the middle of the room and Hannibal shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the rack. Will follows suit until they are both dressed comfortably – Will is wearing jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt, Hannibal is in one of his suits. It creates a comparison of armor; Will is much more exposed than he is.

Of course, past the black-out curtains, any nudity goes.

The main room of the Dungeon is a clean, dark-lit affair. There is a sitting area for soft play and aftercare, a door leading to a private smoking area in the back, and a stage on which sits a bench and a cross for flogging demonstrations. There is a corner full of thickly-padded mats and, next to it, a café and sitting area for people engaged in conversation. Another corner has a sectioned-off medical station for wax, needle, and knife play.

Hannibal hums, seeing that the place is relatively empty of occupants at the moment, which he is pleased about. Sometimes it can take Will a while to sink into the headspace when there are distractions – his eyes see too much and he feels too deeply to relax and submit when other people are around.

Hannibal looks at him, takes in the sight of Will's bright eyes raking over the room. The air conditioning is blowing strongly, keeping the room cool, and he shivers and steps closer to Hannibal, his head ducked.

"Let's get something to drink," he suggests, and Will nods, following Hannibal over to the café. The bar here stocks sodas, water, and Gatorade. No alcohol, as is policy for the club. Hannibal appreciates that – people run the risk of losing their minds when alcohol is involved, and in a place such as this, he would not tolerate any blurring of the lines of consent.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Will says, and Hannibal nods, taking a seat at one of the tables with two bottles of water. Will goes around the corner of the café where the unisex bathrooms are. Across from the bathrooms are two private rooms. There are signs on the door stating that a closed door should be respected, but there are also velvet ropes that allow onlookers if the couple inside wish to have an audience.

A man approaches him in a bright high-visibility vest that marks him as one of the employees of the club. "Been a while, Doctor Lecter," he says with a smile.

"Yes, I'm afraid I've been keeping Will all to myself," he replies, sitting back in his chair.

"Madame Bloom wanted to be told when you arrived," he says. "Shall I fetch her?"

"There's no hurry," Hannibal replies, but gives him a nod of acquiescence. The man nods and moves away, checking the stations that are in use before he heads out of the back door towards the smoking area. Hannibal heard that Alana's new partner vapes.

Will comes back and Hannibal hands him a bottle of water. Will unscrews the cap and takes a long drink, baring his throat to Hannibal's gaze. He sighs, setting it back down, and looks around at the suspension stations, the crosses with wrist and ankle restraints, the spanking benches and massage tables.

Will smiles. "We should get a massage table," he says.

Hannibal hums, cocking his head to one side. "Is my bed not sufficient?"

"I don't want to get oil on your bed," Will replies, biting his lower lip.

Hannibal smiles. "Alana is already here, apparently," he says.

Will's eyes flash to his, wide and eager. He swallows and his fingers wrap tight around his water bottle like he's suddenly very thirsty again. "She asked Jacob to let her know when she'd arrived. I told her there was no rush."

Will smiles, sly and wide. "The night is young."

"Yes." Hannibal regards Will for another moment, and then he holds out his hand. "Come sit with me properly."

Will swallows, ducking his gaze, and pushes his chair back. He slides to his knees on the floor and moves so that he's sitting between Hannibal's feet, his head on one of Hannibal's knees, shoulder tucked under his thigh. Hannibal smiles, petting through Will's hair gently, tutting when his fingers catch on the knots.

"You should start brushing your hair after you shower," he says.

"You always ruin it," Will replies. Hannibal smiles, humming. He supposes that is true.

The other occupants from the changing room finally come in. Only one of them is dressed, the rest wearing tail harnesses and masks over their faces to vaguely resemble dogs and cats. There is a healthy mix of boys and girls and Hannibal watches as they go over to the matted area to set up their play session.

He knows Will is watching them as well. Even though Will feels no desire to behave as an animal, Hannibal knows he is enthralled with the mindset. Life is so much simpler through the eyes of a dog or a cat.

The master claps his hands together, calling his pack to order. They woof and yip at him, one girl rubbing her head against his leg. Hannibal keeps stroking through Will's hair, absently negotiating the knots in his curls, as the puppies start to play. They wrestle and play-mount each other, barking and growling. It seems like a joyful practice, and Hannibal finds himself smiling as he watches them.

Hannibal hears heels, and turns his head, his smile widening as he sees Alana walking towards them. Her hair is down, framing her face in artful femme fatale waves, the dark color and red lipstick making her look stern and commanding. She's wearing a plain, long black skirt and a black tank top, exposing her pale shoulders and collarbones. Behind her walks another woman, hair pulled back in a ponytail, eyes wide and lowered and hands held clasped in front of her. She is wearing considerably less – just a matching set of lacy bra and panties the color of Alana's lipstick, and red stilettos.

Alana gives Hannibal a bright smile as she comes to their table, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "It's good to see you, my friend," she says, her voice soothing and quiet. Hannibal can tell that her companion has already sunk deep into the headspace and makes a mental note to keep his voice at the same soothing level. Her blinks are slow and far apart, her breathing very steady. Alana sits in Will's chair and smiles at him.

Will smiles back, wrapping an arm around Hannibal's ankle as he nods at her. "Madame Bloom," he greets politely, as he has been told.

"Margot, sit down, baby," Alana says, gesturing towards the third and final chair. The second woman sits as well, demure and prim. "This is Doctor Lecter. You will address him as 'Sir' or 'Friend', whichever you prefer. Say hello."

Margot lifts her eyes, wide and a very pretty blue. "Hello, friend," she says, her gaze set on Hannibal's chin, before it drops completely to her hands again. Hannibal smiles, gently running the backs of his knuckles over Will's cheek as Will sighs.

His boy gets possessive, sometimes.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," Hannibal says as Alana sets her bag on the table. "Would either of you care for a drink?"

Alana huffs. "Always trying to play host," she replies with a happy smile. "No, thank you, we're quite alright."

"A thin crowd, today," Hannibal says.

Alana nods, humming. "Yes," she replies. Her eyes go to the puppy play sessions happening next to them, and a small smile ghosts across her face. "But I think that's for the best. Margot is new to this kind of thing."

"How new?" Hannibal asks, curious despite himself.

Alana smiles. "I've taken her here once before, and to Primal a few times as well." A flash of irritation passes over her face – a negative emotion Hannibal feels himself. Primal is a fine club for the swingers and party-goers, but not suitable for people as possessive and controlling as he and Alana are. Their basement suites are nice for private rooms and they certainly offer more variety, but Hannibal has found a startling lack of rules and regulations at the club and finds the Dungeon suits his tastes much better. It makes the drive to D.C. worth it.

"How do you think it suits?" Hannibal asks. He doesn't enjoy speaking about Margot as if she isn't there, but Margot hardly seems to be paying attention – her sole focus is on her Mistress. Hannibal understands that mindset well.

Alana smiles, and reaches out to take Margot's hand. Margot shivers, biting her lower lip, and presses her thighs more tightly together. "I think we'll become regulars, with any luck," she says.

Hannibal nods, petting through Will's hair when Will nuzzles his thigh, his warm breath soaking through Hannibal's clothes. "Be patient, darling," he tells Will – a warning and an indulgence. Will can be incredibly enduring with Hannibal's designs, until he knows Alana is involved as well. Alana makes him impatient.

Alana's eyes drop to Will, and her smile widens. "I've missed you both so much," she says fondly.

"We shall have you over for dinner, sometime soon," Hannibal replies. They see each other often enough in their daily lives, but Hannibal knows what she means – it's rare that they get to experience each other like this, Master and Mistress and submissives. It's a side of Alana he doesn't often see, and a side of Will that he knows Will doesn't often show to anyone except Hannibal.

"That would be wonderful," Alana murmurs.

Then, her eyes flash over Hannibal's shoulder, and she straightens up. "One of the rooms is free," she says.

Hannibal smiles and guides Will onto his knees, then stands. He pulls Will upright by his hair and Will shivers, biting his lower lip. His eyes are dark and starting to become unfocused like Margot's. He's calm and assured; ready.

They go into the private room. It's a simple thing – a queen-sized bed with new sheets, a shelf with other sets for people to use when they are done, and a wastebasket to dispose of condoms and empty lubricant bottles. There is a hamper next to it for dirty sheets, already half-full.

Hannibal closes the door behind the four of them. There isn't a lot of room around the beds for people, but there is a chair in the corner. Alana smiles at Hannibal, and then takes Margot's face in her hands. She kisses her on the lips, once. "Be good for our friend," she says, and Margot nods, turning to face Hannibal.

Hannibal smiles at her and holds out a hand, and she steps forward and takes it. "Come sit in whatever way is most comfortable, darling," he tells her, and she bites her lower lip and sits on the floor by his feet, her back leaning against the wall, her knees pulled up so she can rest her arms on them. "Is it okay to touch you?"

She nods. "Of course, friend."

Hannibal nods, looking to Alana for confirmation. She smiles at him and turns away and Hannibal knows that she trusts him not to overstep Margot's boundaries. Hannibal gently digs his fingers around the hair tie holding Margot's hair in a ponytail, pulling it free. He wraps it around his wrist and settles a hand in Margot's hair. It's warm and thick and he hums, pleased when she shivers and leans her head against his thigh, her eyes closing.

Hannibal turns his gaze to Alana and Will.

Alana flattens her hands on Will's chest and steps back, sitting down on the end of the bed where Hannibal will be able to get the best view. She cocks her head to one side, leans back, and raises an eyebrow, and Will immediately falls to his knees between her spread legs. He has the same look on his face as he gets when Hannibal spends a good hour working him over, clawing and petting him to get him to sink into the animalistic mindset. His jaws are parted, mouth slack, as Alana gives a pleased hum and leans forward, cupping his jaw and bringing him up for a kiss.

It's passionate and rough. Will knows better than to bite her, though he loves to nip and suck marks onto Hannibal whenever Hannibal is in the mood to indulge him. Hannibal watches as Alana's tongue slides into Will's mouth and her red nails dig into the sides of his neck, just touching the day-old imprint of Hannibal's teeth.

Will whimpers against her mouth, his hands flattening on her thighs, stark against her skirt, and slide down so he can find the edge and push it up. She allows him to do it, raking her nails through his hair as Will pushes her skirt up past her knees.

She pulls back, taking in Will's bright eyes, his red cheeks, the way his throat is working to swallow like his mouth is watering at the very sight of her. She smiles. "Are you going to make me feel good, sweet boy?" she purrs.

Will nods, bowing his head to kiss her wrist. "Please," he rasps, as desperate and needy as he has ever been for her. Hannibal has watched them do this countless times, but it never fails to take his breath away, watching his two favorite people enjoy each other so much.

She gives him a fond, indulgent smile, and kisses him again. Will takes it as the permission he needs, pushing her skirt up her thighs to pool around her hips, his hands flattening wide and dark on her pale flesh. He kisses her passionately. They make a beautiful couple, darkness and sweet plaintive need all swirled together.

Then Alana releases Will's mouth, pets her thumb along his lower lip to get his jaws to part, and smiles at him. His lips are red from her lipstick and her kisses. Then she sits back, tugs her skirt out of the way so she won't stain it, and knots a hand in his hair.

She isn't wearing any underwear, and Hannibal catches a slip of her pink, exposed flesh, before Will sucks in an eager breath and lowers his head, putting his mouth on her. He places a wet, sucking kiss to her, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet room, and Alana sighs as Will's jaws part and he licks between her legs.

She shivers, biting her lower lip, and tilts her head back, eyes closing as she spreads her legs a little wider to let Hannibal see Will's tongue slide into her. Will's mouth is already slick, his jaw is clean-shaven – as Hannibal demands he do on nights when they go out – and his skin shines with Alana's slick and his own saliva. Will nuzzles the thin patch of hair between her legs, pulls his lips back so he can lick her, tongue wide like he's eager to taste every inch of her he can.

One of Alana's hands settles on the back of Will's head, fisting tightly in his hair, and Will moans, muffled and raw against her. He pulls his hands back from her thighs so he doesn't grab her, and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of her thighs.

She lets out a soft, breathless hum. Her cheeks are flushed and it's spreading down her chest. "Good boy," she murmurs. "Glad to see you haven't forgotten your manners."

Hannibal smiles, proud of Will's performance so far. Will lets out a quiet sound, and Hannibal can see his jaw moving as he keeps working. His neck is strained, shoulders tensed, every inch of him dedicated to servicing her – Will's dogged determination has always been admirable, but when it comes to pleasing Alana, and Hannibal, it's almost saint-like.

Hannibal strokes his fingertips gently over Margot's cheek, feeling her smile.

"There's something I wanted to propose to you, friend," Alana says, her breath catching on his title as Will finds her clit, another wet sucking sound providing a low harmony to Alana's words. Hannibal hums. "Margot is interested in impact play."

Hannibal cocks his head to one side. "Any particular flavor?"

Alana hums, her breath hitching. She pulls Will closer by the neck and tilts her head up, gasping towards the ceiling. "She wants to beat a pretty boy," she gasps.

Hannibal smiles when he sees Will shiver. "What a happy coincidence, that we have one at our disposal."

Margot shifts her weight, turning her head to kiss Hannibal's fingers. He smiles and cups her jaw, admiring the smoothness of her skin. She is a lovely young woman. He puts his hand back in her hair. "Would it be sexual?" he asks. He doesn't think he would have a problem sharing Will with Margot as well, if Will and Alana allow it, but he wants to ask.

Alana shakes her head. "I don't like men, Sir," Margot says quietly, turning her head and lifting her eyes to Hannibal's chest, before she drops them back down. Alana shivers again, breathing heavily as Will slides one hand down her thigh, takes hold of the bottom of her knee and pushes her leg out to give himself more room. He won't try to penetrate her, he knows the rules.

Hannibal smiles when Alana moans, like it's dragged out of her. Her other hand goes to Will's shoulder, nails digging in tightly. "I figured you'd be the best to learn from," she says, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut. She's close – Hannibal has slept with her a few times, before Will, and knows what she's like when she's close to orgasm.

"I'd be more than willing to lend my expertise," Hannibal says mildly. "But it's up to you, my friend. Perhaps if Will stops teasing you, he will have earned a reward."

Will whines, pulling back for a brief gasp of air. His eyes are closed, mouth shining and red. He licks his lips and drags his nose through Alana, breathing deeply, and licks over her clit again. She trembles, her thighs shaking and trying to close.

Alana has always been willing to indulge Will, let him play with her and devour her until he's full, but Hannibal wants him to finish her. He wants to lick her taste from Will's sweet mouth. He sits back in his chair and hums when Will bares his teeth, opens his mouth wide to sink his tongue into her, and then pulls back to lick over her clit again. And again, more harshly. His fingers tighten on Alana's knee as her breathing gets shaky.

Her orgasm hits her and she gasps, head tilted back, face lax, her hand fisted tightly in Will's hair. She forces his face more tightly between her legs, forcing him to keep going until her thighs twitch with aftershocks and Hannibal knows she is too sensitive for immediate touch. Will doesn't stop, because he hasn't been told to, but he does soften his tongue and moves lower, cleaning the slick from between her legs like it's water and he's been dying of thirst.

After a moment, she sits up, and pets his sweat-damp hair back from his face. He meets her eyes, his own glazed and shining, and she smiles at him. She drags her thumb along his lower lip and lifts it to her mouth to taste.

Then, her eyes flash to Hannibal's, bright with mischief. "Go share, sweet boy," she says, and lets him go. Will staggers to his feet, unsteady, his cock bulging obscenely in his jeans, and prowls over to Hannibal. He circles Margot, giving her a wide berth out of politeness, and Hannibal reaches up with his free hand to pull Will down by his hair. Will kisses him passionately, whimpering against his mouth like Hannibal's kiss is a touch straight to his cock. Hannibal hums at the taste of Alana on Will's tongue, salty-sweet as he remembers.

He can feel Margot watching them, and pulls away to meet her eyes. She drops them immediately and Hannibal smiles, petting through her hair. "Would you like a taste, darling?" he asks.

She bites her lip and nods.

Will slides to his knees so that he doesn't crowd her. He sits back, waiting for her to come to him, and Margot moves forward, going to her hands and knees, and then sets her hands on Will's chest. Will is breathing heavily, his head low like he's trying to appease her. She tilts his chin up, meets his eyes, and kisses him chastely on the mouth.

His fingers curl, and after a second of hesitation, he cups her jaw like a lover and tilts his head to one side, deepening the kiss. She gives a quiet sigh, smiling, and licks over his red lower lip before she pulls away.

"Thank you," she tells him.

Will smiles, lopsided and rakish. "My pleasure," he replies, his voice little more than a raspy growl that Hannibal knows well.

"Do you need a moment, Alana?" Hannibal asks.

Alana shakes her head, smiling, and gets to her feet, letting her skirt fall back to her ankles. Will licks his lips, eyeing her ravenously. "Maybe after," she says, and Hannibal smiles. He pushes himself to his feet and helps Margot to stand before he sends her to her Mistress, and then turns his attention to Will.

"We will join you in a moment," Hannibal tells them. Alana nods, taking Margot's hand, and exits the room.

Will shivers and Hannibal takes him, yanking him close, and turns Will so that his back slams against the wall. Will gasps, wrapping his arms around Hannibal's shoulders as Hannibal kisses him fiercely. Alana is the only person Hannibal allows Will to be with like this, but that doesn't mean Hannibal will tolerate Will's focus being on anyone except him when Alana isn't being serviced.

Will moans against his mouth, whining softly when Hannibal bites his lower lip. Will gasps, arching against Hannibal, his cock rutting impatiently against Hannibal's thigh. "Please," he whispers, running one hand down Hannibal's chest and wrapping his warm hand around Hannibal's cock through his suit pants.

Hannibal growls. "You want me?" he asks. Will nods frantically. "Want me to throw you down, right here, and use you as my own?"

"I am yours," Will murmurs, plaintive and desperate. "Everything I am belongs to you."

Hannibal shivers, growling into another kiss. He flattens his hand over Will's hammering pulse, brushes his thumb along the edge of the pretty flush on Will's neck. "Our friends are waiting for us," he tells Will. Will bites his lower lip, whining. "It would be rude to keep them waiting."

Will swallows. Hannibal feels his throat move against his palm and tightens his grip. "I want to make you feel good," he whispers, low and desperate, his eyes shining and full of adoration. Hannibal smiles, drags his nails down Will's neck.

"Take off your shirt," he murmurs. Will obeys hurriedly, pulling his shirt over his head. He folds it tightly and hands it to Hannibal when Hannibal holds his hand out for it. Will's flush of arousal has spread down his heaving chest. Hannibal smiles, dragging his thumb across the little scar on Will's flank, the old bullet wound in his abdomen, the small trail of hair that leads from his navel to his cock. Will shivers at every touch. "Will you allow Margot to practice impact play with you?"

Will licks his lips, nodding. Hannibal cocks his head to one side, silently demanding Will's honesty. Will nods again. "I don't mind," he says. Then; "I want to."

"Which is it?" Hannibal presses. Will is in that mindset where he'll do anything he thinks Hannibal wants, which is as dangerous as it is delightful. Will has the uncanny ability to see a challenge when it presents itself, but also has the unfortunate tendency to rise to one, sometimes to his own harm.

"You'll be teaching her, right?" Will asks. Hannibal nods, and Will mimics the gesture. "My same rules apply. I trust you."

Hannibal smiles, and kisses Will again in reward. "You're behaving wonderfully, darling," he says. "I will be sure to reward you for your patience."

Will's eyes flash, and he gives Hannibal an off-kilter, feral-looking smile. He runs a hand through his hair and breathes in deeply, closing his eyes for a moment while he gets his bearings. Hannibal lets him do it, and when Will opens his eyes again, he takes Will's hand and leads him out of the room, the door remaining open so that future guests know it is available.

He sees Margot and Alana standing by one of the crosses. Alana is touching the sleek, polished wood, showing Margot the restraints and speaking to her in a low murmur, her other hand on Margot's lower back. They walk up to the women and Hannibal doesn't miss the appreciative once-over Alana gives Will.

She smiles at them. "I was just showing Margot the cross," she says.

Hannibal smiles, and looks to Will. "Friend, would you mind restraining him while I go over Will's rules with Margot?" he asks.

"Of course."

Alana takes Will by the hair and leads him over the cross. He stands facing it, and she takes one of his wrists and lifts it to the soft leather cuffs, pulling it tight. Hannibal leads Margot over to the little side table. He sees Alana's bag, a small black leather flogger, and a large flat paddle. Easy first-timer choices.

"Are you familiar with the traffic light system?" Hannibal asks.

Margot nods, her eyes wide and fixed on Hannibal's feet. "Recite them for me, please."

"Red means I should stop completely," she says. "Yellow is 'Stop what you're doing, I need a moment', or 'Talk to me', or 'It's almost too much'. Green means to keep going."

Hannibal smiles, pleased. "That will suffice for now. Will knows them as well. I will make sure to ask him when I believe it's necessary, but I encourage you to pay attention. And if you hear his safe word, you will immediately tell me if I don't hear it. It's 'Mercy'." Margot nods. "Now, do you have experience with either of these?" He gestures to the flogger and the paddle.

Margot shakes her head. "No," she replies.

"Your Mistress has chosen to go light today. Probably for the best, since you and Will have just met. We wouldn't want to push either of you too hard. This…" He takes the flogger, wraps the leather strips around his knuckles, feels the soft suppleness of the leather. "Is a comparatively gentle piece. The shorter strands mean the impact won't be able to get too hard, so you can swing with more force if you want. It'll sting more than anything else. And this -." He sets the flogger down and picks up the paddle. It's a heavy thing and he doubts Margot has the upper body strength to really put it to use. "This will be good to use first. It'll warm him up, make the ache start before the pain sets in." He sets it back down and looks to her. "Do you have any questions?"

Margot smiles, her cheeks bulging, child-like and sweet. "Can I have my hair tie back?"

Hannibal huffs a laugh, and removes it from his wrist, handing it to her. She pulls her hair back and ties it, brushing the loose strands from her face, and gives him another smile. "Thank you, friend."

"You're very welcome," Hannibal replies. He sees Alana finishing with the last cuff around Will's right ankle, and she straightens, flattening her hands to Will's flanks and kissing the back of his neck. Will trembles, shoulders tightening before he forces them lax. He bows his head, too tall to touch the part where the cross connects. His eyes are closed.

Hannibal goes to him, circling the back of the cross, and takes Will's face in his hands. Will's eyes open and he blinks slowly at Hannibal, and bites his lower lip. "I'll be here the whole time," he murmurs, and kisses Will's forehead.

Will smiles. "I doubt she can do much damage," he says with a laugh.

Hannibal smiles. "Careful, darling. I left some of our tools in the car." Will's eyes flash and he licks his lips. "I could be persuaded to get very rough with you if you force me."

Will shakes his head. He's not afraid of Hannibal using rougher things on him, but he knows that's not part of the scene Hannibal wants to have. "I'll be good," he whispers hoarsely.

Hannibal kisses him again, chastely, and lets him go. "I know you will, my dear," he replies. Then, he pulls away and circles the cross to where Margot and Alana are standing at Will's back. Margot has the paddle in her hands, holding it tightly, her fingers curled and white-knuckled around it.

She looks at Will, biting her lower lip. "Will this work for his back?" she asks, frowning.

Hannibal smiles. "It's not the best tool I would use, but it will do for now," he replies. "Unless…" He takes a hold of the flogger and holds it by the strings, the handle dangling. "You'd rather use this."

"Is that…alright?"

"Of course. Just remember the colors."

Margot nods, setting the paddle down and taking the flogger. She wraps the ends around her wrist and holds the handle by the very end. The handle itself is fairly long, useable for two-handed swings if desired, and the bulbous end of it will leave nice welts on Will's back.

Margot steps up to him and Hannibal and Alana stand to one side, out of the way. "Thank you so much for giving her the chance to do this," Alana murmurs. Margot has taken off her heels, they're tucked under the table, so she's standing much more steadily.

"I'm happy to oblige," Hannibal replies.

Margot steps forward and reaches out, dragging her palm flat down Will's spine. Will shivers, muscles flexing under her touch like a cat arching its back into its master's hand. There are faded bruises on Will's back from Hannibal's last session with him, claw marks cross-stitched across his flanks and, of course, the ever-present bruising on the back of his neck from Hannibal's teeth. He looks beautifully ruined already, and Margot hasn't even started.

Margot steps even closer, her lips at Will's ear. Hannibal doesn't hear when she says, but he sees Will shake his head, and when she steps back she looks much more confident. Hannibal will have to ask what Will told her, later.

She takes in a breath and swings the handle of the flogger. It hits Will's shoulder and Will doesn't move except to curl his fingers around the chains holding the cuffs to the cross. His skin turns red almost immediately, and Margot hits him again on the opposite shoulder. Will hisses, his head tilting to one side as he clenches his jaw, but he doesn't do or say anything to discourage her.

She hits him again, and again, raising bright red patches of pain on his back. She lays a pattern of marks down either side of his spine, peppers his shoulders and flanks with the handle, hits him again and again until she starts to sweat and is breathing as hard as Will is.

She has very little finesse, absolutely no theatrics, but she gets the job done. Hannibal can tell each point where the darkest bruises will bloom, already taste Will's blood-sweet skin in his mouth. He swallows, his mouth watering at the sight.

Margot growls and hits a particularly red spot and Will flinches, tugging on the cuffs. Hannibal goes tense, ready to stride forward and tell her to wait, but Margot immediately stops, her eyes wide. She steps closer to Will's back and flattens her palm on his burning skin and touches her lips to his ear.

"Color?" she asks. Hannibal stops.

Will sucks in a breath, shivering. "Green," he replies.

Margot frowns. "Are you sure?" she asks.

Will nods.

Margot steps back and looks over to Hannibal. "He said 'Green'," she murmurs.

Hannibal nods. "Switch to the actual flogger," he tells her. "Spread out the pain."

She nods, smiling in relief at him, and unwraps the flogger strips from her wrist, switching her grip so she's holding the handle instead. "Swing it like you're painting a large canvas," Hannibal tells her. "Figure-eight motions work best."

She nods again, giving him a thankful smile, and turns her attention back to Will. Will is visibly trembling, his skin shining with sweat. He spreads his legs a little wider and bows his head forward. Margot rolls her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath. She lets it out, and then swings the flogger as Hannibal told her, arcing down his right shoulder, then his left.

Will moans, his fists going tight in the cuffs. He arches up into the sting of the flogger and Hannibal steps back again to Alana's side. She gives a soft hum of appreciation. "If I was more of a sadist, I think I would want a turn," she says lightly.

Hannibal smiles. "He's all yours if you ever want to experiment."

"You're too kind," she replies.

Margot swings again, grunting with effort. The loose strands of hair are curling around her face, dark with sweat and exertion despite the air conditioning's best efforts. She swings the flogger again, raising little red spots among the pink of Will's back. Will shakes every time a blow hits, but he doesn't flinch from it. Hannibal watches as the bruises darken on his back, little peppered trails of pain and impact.

She keeps going, until the bruises on Will's back start to turn into welts. Hannibal doesn't intend to stop her – he's curious to see how far she will go, how much she will hurt Will until either of them calls it off. Hannibal knows Will's pain threshold is incredibly high, and he'll bear as much as he possibly can when he knows Hannibal wants it.

She swings the flogger again and Will moans, lifting his head as he lets out a rough, ragged sound. " _Fuck_ ," he growls, his arms tensing up, muscles flexing as he tugs on the cuffs. Hannibal shifts his weight, knowing he's getting close. Even though he doubts Margot is hitting him as hard as Hannibal can, there's only so much constant impact one can take before the force of the swings becomes irrelevant.

Margot hesitates, her eyes flashing to Hannibal. She presses her lips together and goes to Will again. "Are you alright?"

Will nods, clenching his jaw and baring his teeth. "Please," he whispers. Margot hums, looking down at the flogger, then Hannibal again.

She steps away from Will and approaches Hannibal, her eyes lowered. "Can I touch him?" she asks.

Hannibal nods, taking the flogger from him. She smiles, and goes back to Will. She presses flat against his sore back and Will sags, whimpering at the touch. She wraps her arms around his chest and Hannibal watches as she drags her nails across his chest, under his arms, down either side of his spine. Her nails catch on the welts and leave little red lines and Will goes limp, whining desperately.

She does it again, cupping her hands around the bruising at the back of Will's neck, and rakes her nails down his back again and Will lets out a sob, needy and low. He starts to shake.

"Have you ever seen him cry?" Hannibal asks Alana.

She shakes her head. "No," she breathes.

Hannibal smiles. Margot flattens her hands on Will's flanks, pulls him back against her slim body and Will trembles, arching into her warmth. "Thank you, Will," she whispers to him, but loud enough that Hannibal can hear it; "You did such a good job. I know you made your Master proud."

Will whimpers, turning his head to one side to hide his face against his bicep. His hands wrap around the chains again and tug. Margot runs her nails up his flanks, then across his shoulders and up his arms until she can't reach without her heels on. Her nails are longer than Alana's, sharper, and Hannibal knows Will feels every inch.

"Do you like pain, Will?" Margot asks. "You like how it hurts? How it stings?"

" _Yes_ ," Will gasps. He bows his head again, giving himself over to Margot's sharp-edged touches. A bead of sweat runs down his back and Margot hums, brushing it away, rubbing it into his tender skin.

She digs her nails in and rakes them down again, and one of the little welts breaks, a small bead of blood forming. Will sags, gasping, his breath stuttering in arousal, and Margot steps back, her eyes wide.

"It's alright, darling," Hannibal says before she can panic. She looks at his shoes and bites her lower lip. "I can finish up here. Go to your Mistress."

Alana holds her hands out for Margot and Margot goes to her. She guides Margot to the table to pack their toys away and Hannibal approaches Will.

He wraps a hand around the front of Will's neck, forcing his head back and Will gasps, pressing himself tightly to Hannibal's chest. "Very well done, Will," he says, kissing the words against Will's sweaty neck. Will closes his eyes, breathing harsh and unsteady. "I'm going to release you, and you will kneel down and stay quiet." Will nods, and Hannibal smiles and kisses his neck again.

He kneels down, dragging his hands down Will's sore flanks, his strong thighs, until he reaches Will's ankles. He uncuffs those first, letting Will pull his legs together and straighten up, and then uncuffs Will's wrists. He rubs his thumbs down the tender joints and Will shivers, before he falls to his knees as Hannibal told him to.

Hannibal smiles, petting through his hair, and looks up as Alana approaches. "Is he alright?" she asks.

"Of course," Hannibal replies, his hand still in Will's hair. Will leans against his thigh, nuzzling him gently. Alana smiles at him, reaching out to gently touch his forehead, and he lifts his head to kiss her fingertips. Her smile widens.

"Thank you again," she says. "I owe you one."

"Perhaps you will indulge me with another show," Hannibal says. Alana tilts her head to one side, eyebrows rising. "I think you'll enjoy how desperate he gets when he's in pain."

She smiles. "Some other time, perhaps," she says. "I need to get Margot home."

Hannibal nods, and she kisses his cheek, and then crouches down to kiss Will's forehead. "Have a good night, gentlemen," she says, and shoulders her bag, and takes Margot's hand, leading her towards the changing room.

Hannibal turns, seeing that the private room is still unoccupied. "Come with me, darling," he tells Will, and Will stumbles to his feet, leaning against Hannibal for a heavy moment, before Hannibal takes him by the hair and leads him into the room, shutting the door.

He lets Will go. "Bare yourself to me," he says, and Will nods, his shaking hands going to his jeans and unbuttoning and unzipping them, pushing them down along with his underwear and stepping out of them. He bends down, hissing in pain, and grabs the clothes, folding them and setting them on the chair in the corner of the room. Hannibal sets Will's shirt on top, then starts to unbutton and roll up his sleeves. "You did very well, Will. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Will breathes, weak and relieved.

"What did Margot ask you, before she began?"

"She asked me if I was going to pretend it was you beating me," he replies. Hannibal raises his eyebrows and regards Will. "She didn't want to be a proxy. I told her no, I told her I wanted it to be her. She needed to make sure I wanted it."

"The girl has good instincts," Hannibal says mildly.

Will smiles. "If I had more time, I could figure out where they came from."

Hannibal smiles back. He's sure Will's all-seeing eye would have no trouble with that. "Get on the bed, darling," he murmurs. Will nods, climbing onto it and kneeling down, on his elbows and knees as he knows Hannibal prefers. He's still hard, his cock hanging thick and red between his thighs. Hannibal takes a moment to admire the marks Margot left on his back, the cling of sweat in his hair. He mourns, briefly, the fact that Will didn't get any marks on his thighs.

But that's one of the rules. Will doesn't want to be naked in the main rooms. Hannibal doesn’t want it either. Will's more vulnerable places are for his eyes only.

He steps up to the end of the bed and flattens his hands on Will's ass, spreading him apart. Will moans, dropping his head, arching back into the touch. Hannibal smiles, leaning down to kiss Will's spine, savoring the heat coming from his abused flesh.

"I'll admit, I wasn't sure how I would react, seeing another woman harm you," he murmurs, digging his nails around Will's hips and dragging them down his thighs. Will whimpers, fists curling in the sheets.

"You're possessive," Will gasps.

Hannibal hums, for he cannot deny it. He straightens and takes a bottle of lubricant from the shelves, opening the cap and squirting some onto his fingers. Another way the Dungeon is superior – they carry their own lubricant. He sets the bottle down and returns to Will.

"On your back, darling," he says. Will whines and rolls over, hissing when his tender back meets the sheets. Hannibal knows it will hurt. He wants it to hurt.

He smiles, pushing Will's thighs apart, and slides one finger into Will without preamble. Will is tight and hot around his finger and he sucks in a breath, eyelids fluttering but staying open because he knows Hannibal likes to see his eyes whenever he can.

"Touch yourself," Hannibal commands, and Will immediately wraps a hand around his cock, clenching his jaw with a low growl, his other hand fisting in his own hair since Hannibal isn't doing it for him. Hannibal smiles. "Tell me a story."

Another game they like to play; Will tells Hannibal his fantasies and Hannibal will do his damnedest to make them happen.

"I'm…out in the open," Will says, his thighs trembling when Hannibal sinks his finger in deeply, curling it up. Will moans, arching his back, baring his throat. He runs his hand down his neck, claws at the bite mark Hannibal left the day before. "A forest. It's dark."

"Are you alone?" Hannibal growls. He puts his free hand on Will's thigh, forcing him to keep his legs spread, delighting in the tremble and flex of the strong muscle under his nails.

"At first," Will whispers. "Then I realize I'm being hunted."

 _Oh_. This one. It's one of Hannibal's favorites. He smiles. "Who's hunting you, darling?"

"I don't know, I can't see him," Will replies, stuttering when Hannibal works another finger into him, crooking them up until he finds Will's prostate. He doesn't touch, not yet. Will's hand tightens around his cock and he whimpers. "I can feel his eyes on me. I can hear his footsteps, just out of sync with mine. He's chasing me."

"Are you going to run?"

"Yes," Will says, the word turning into a moan when Hannibal brushes his fingers against Will's prostate. He tucks his thumb and rubs it on the other side of his fingers, against the smooth patch of skin behind Will's balls. Will's gut clenches and he moans softly again, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he forces them open. "I'm afraid. I can barely see. All I know is he's behind me. He's getting closer."

"He's going to catch you, darling."

"I – ah, _fuck_ ," Will growls, his shoulders tensing and curling up as Hannibal brushes his prostate again. His hand is tight around his cock and his other hand goes back to his hair, tugging. He writhes on the sheets and Hannibal imagines he is in such glorious agony, his back screaming and the pleasure burning in his blood. "I can't let him. I keep running but I hear him gaining ground. If I can just get to a road, or a path -."

Hannibal growls and works in another finger.

" _God_ , he's going to catch me," Will says, breathing hitching. He drags his nails down his neck again, up over his own jaw, bares his teeth. His eyes are shining with unshed tears. He looks so beautiful, so close to his rapture. "I can feel his hands on me."

"They could be gentle," Hannibal whispers, squeezing Will's thigh.

"No," Will replies, baring his teeth, vehement and raw. His eyes flash and he meets Hannibal's burning gaze. His breath hitches. "He's touching me," he says. "He's going to devour me."

"Do you want to be devoured, darling?"

" _Yes_ ," Will gasps. His cock twitches and he tightens his hand at the head of his cock, twisting his wrist sharply. "Oh, _God_ , yes."

Hannibal smiles, showing his teeth. "Are you afraid, little one?" he purrs. The big bad wolf in this story has a silver tongue and golden eyes.

Will whimpers, baring his neck. "Please," he moans. He lets go of his own neck and reaches out for Hannibal. " _Please_."

"Show me how much you want it," Hannibal demands, finding Will's prostate again and touching it mercilessly. Will shivers, gut clenching, his ass tightening up in spasm. He's close. He's _so_ close. "Come on, darling. Show me."

" _Hannibal_ ," Will gasps, and he can't keep his eyes open any longer. Hannibal allows it, purring as he watches Will's cock twitch, thicken, and spill over his stomach. His ass gets unbearably tight and hot around Hannibal's fingers, almost forcing him out, but Hannibal is determined and merciless and he keeps fucking Will with his fingers, forcing him to part and accept Hannibal's touch as his orgasm consumes him.

Will moans, loudly, arching his hips and letting go of his cock, both hands in the pillows by his head as he seeks something to rip and tear. His eyes fly open and he shudders, baring his teeth, his body twitching with aftershocks as Hannibal continues to touch him.

Finally, when he's too sensitive to keep going, he whimpers. "Mercy," he says quietly. "Please."

'Mercy' is Will's safe word, but it isn't exactly what Hannibal implied to Margot. It isn't a plea to stop altogether – it's a desperate cry for Hannibal to finish the job. Had Hannibal heard it in the main room, he would have gone to his car to get the tools that would absolutely ruin his lovely boy.

Hannibal smiles, pulling his fingers out, and prowls over Will. He wraps his dirty hand in Will's sweaty hair and drags him into a kiss that still tastes like Alana. "Roll over, darling," he says, and Will nods, sliding onto his stomach so that Hannibal can cover him. There are small spots of blood on the sheets.

Hannibal growls, kissing Will's exposed neck, and unbuttons and unzips his suit pants just enough that he can pull his cock out. He lines himself up and pushes into Will's stretched, slick body. He knows it hurts – Will is incredibly sensitive after his orgasm and he tightens up in pain, but Will lifts his hips eagerly to him, wanting Hannibal as deep inside of him as he can get.

Hannibal growls, closing his eyes, and opens his mouth wide on Will's nape. Will whimpers, bowing his head to give Hannibal more room, offers his wrists for Hannibal's nails to dig into and flatten him to the bed. He fucks Will brutally, delighting in every spasm and every pained moan he pulls from the other man. He knows his clothes are rubbing against Will's tender back, making him sting and ache, but he doesn't care. Will knows what will make him stop.

He doesn't ask Hannibal to stop. He lifts himself up into Hannibal's cruelty, submits to his touches and his thrusts like any sweet lover. Hannibal bites down harder on the back of his neck, sucks the bruise there to a darker, deeper purple. Will moans when he does it, goose bumps breaking out down his arms.

"Good boy," Hannibal growls, his head feeling hot and his spine tensing as he feels his orgasm approaching. He should have let Will finish him after he serviced Alana, so that Hannibal feels the urgency less, but he wants to break Will now, ruin him so that he can piece the shards of glass and sand back together into his own construction of mercy and pride.

"Please," Will moans, turning his head so Hannibal can see the whorish red on his cheeks, the slackness of his mouth, the pretty shine of his teary eyes. He's so beautiful like this, agony and arousal in equal measure. If Hannibal wanted to really indulge, he'd stop, force Will to another orgasm before finishing inside of him.

But Hannibal is feeling impatient.

He growls, his hands flying to Will's hips as he rears back, pulling Will to his elbows and knees, and slams deep inside of him, emptying himself inside of Will's spasming body. Will moans, head bowed, shoulders tensed, thighs shaking as he bears Hannibal's weight. The sweetest mate and mount, all Hannibal's for the taking.

Hannibal sighs, gentling his hands, and pulls out of Will, forcing him to remain still when he does it. He stands, fixing his clothes, and then goes to Will's head.

He takes Will by the shoulders and forces him upright, cupping his face as he watches Will's eyes for any lingering signs of distress or need. Will looks utterly satisfied, his eyes heavy-lidded, and he cradles Hannibal's wrists gently and offers his mouth up for a chaste kiss.

Hannibal smiles. "There you are," he murmurs.

Will huffs a laugh, nuzzling Hannibal gently. He's flying high, will likely be singing with the endorphins and release for hours after the fact. Hannibal likes him like this, when he's lax and sated and on a whole other plane of existence.

"Do you need to rest a while?"

Will shakes his head. "Let's go home," he murmurs, kissing Hannibal again. Hannibal nods, releasing Will and handing him his clothes, before he goes to their table and retrieves their water bottles. Will finishes both of them and throws them away. The club is much more packed now and Hannibal is glad that they finished with their scenes before Will ran the risk of getting too distracted.

He pets Will's hair over his forehead, helping to shield his eyes, and guides him towards the changing rooms to get Will's shoes and socks.

The next morning, Hannibal orders a massage table online. Will smirks, but he must have some sense of self-preservation, because he doesn't comment.

 


End file.
